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Confusion crept along the sharp edges of his face. “A sum? On my ancient, inept tailor? The one you told me emphatically to sack?” His mouth relaxed into something resembling amusement.
The ebony strands of his hair were spilling wildly around his cheeks, tickling the line of his jaw in a way that was incredibly distracting. “Yes.”
“He left my employ several months after you suggested I find a new tailor.”
“Even so.”
He pressed a finger to his lips. “But you suggested I rid myself of him, did you not? He is still alive, by the way.”
“I did not think you would take my advice.”
“Then why did you give it?” The wisp of a smile broadened.
“Blythe told me everything, Your Grace. I imagined your tailor to be in London with a stable of clients, not an elderly retainer of your family who, after many years of service, would be tossed out on a whim. The poor man—”
“Silas,” he added helpfully. “His name is Silas.”
“Very well. I’m certain Silas suffered often under your employment—”
“Tormented every day.”
—Given your exacting nature.” She took a deep breath, not wishing to say more lest Granby pitch a fit and refuse the wager.
Bits of black ice glared down on her. “I can see Blythe has told you everything. It is a shame, for I did so enjoy thesufferingof Silas, but I was left with no other alternative. I couldn’t go about with a coat the incorrect length, could I? Given my exacting nature.”
“As you say, Your Grace.”
“Very well. I agree. If you win our match, I will settle an indecent sum on Silas, enough so that he may live the remainder of his days a wealthy man. And a cottage, should he wish it.”
A weight lifted from her heart, along with a great deal of guilt at the situation she’d inadvertently caused. “Thank you, Your Grace.” She walked to the designated spot at the edge of the green. Theo stood with Carstairs while Lady Carstairs talked with Beatrice. All four of them turned as she and Granby approached.
Romy ignored them all.
“Are you not curious,” Granby’s words hovered close to her ear as he bent forward, “what I will ask for should I manage the impossible task of beating you at bowls?”
Romy was confident of her victory. Her father had taught her well. “I’ve no intention of losing.”
A low rumble came from his chest.
“No one ever intends to lose, Lady Andromeda.”
